


Again from Ashes

by kotoshin



Series: Paved with Good Intentions [2]
Category: Before Crisis: Final Fantasy VII, Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Pre-Canon, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Dysfunctional Family, Dysfunctional Relationships, Everyone Has Issues, F/F, F/M, Family Secrets, Headcanon, Loyalty, M/M, Multi, Patricide, Pre-Canon, Pre-Relationship, Shinra Men headcanon shit, Time Travel Fix-It, Trust Issues, time travel but not really
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-01
Updated: 2019-11-01
Packaged: 2020-11-25 17:28:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20915852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kotoshin/pseuds/kotoshin
Summary: The Maiden's Rain falls too late, and Rufus Shinra dies of Geostigma at age 29.In June of [ μ ] - εγλ 1998, Rufus Shinra wakes - and sets out to Save the World by Conquest, starting with Tseng of the Turks.AKA "How Rufus Shinra managed to recruit Vincent Valentine with ONLY Tseng, Dark Nation, Ma Strife and 12 year old Cloud Strife as Party Members."





	Again from Ashes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rufus rolls to Disbelieve, but there is no Saving Throw.
> 
> What do you say to someone you've known for over a decade - when they knew you for but one week?

**[ μ ] - εγλ 1998 June 6th 00:21 AM; Vice Presidential Suite**

Bolting, Rufus Shinra gasps to wakefulness, feeling soaked in cold sweat. Frantically crawling his way out of bed, blue eyes dart around the room wildly before settling to a familiar mirror. Tearing off his sleeping shirt, Rufus inspects his chest. Gone, no signs of the black oozing sores that had plagued him with draining pain. He could breathe. He could see, no film dimming the vision in his left eye. His body didn't ache with a bone-deep sickness that was eating him inside and out. He didn't have Geostigma anymore. 

_What is going on?_

He should have been dead, and wasn't. Feeling his heartbeat calm, Rufus realizes he's also not in his Presidential suite at Healen Lodge. As the lingering pain of deathlike sleep falls away, the Rufus Shinra that stares back, wild eyed from the mirror isn't himself as he knows it. His skin is younger, his hair longer, his body slimmer. And this room is the executive suite he'd had at Shinra HQ when he was the Vice President, before Junon. 

_I must be dreaming._

A pinch to his own arm does nothing. Not that Rufus really thought it would snap him to the waking world, but everything seems so _real_. The silk of his pajamas plastered against his skin, the cool air of the room drying sweat, even the smoggy and atificially-lit skyline of Midgar out of his bedroom window.

Tseng paused to save his work on the laptop, when he heard Rufus' sounds of distress on the audio monitor. The Vice President wasn't particularly loud when he had nightmares, and his personal bedroom well insulated - but there was such a thing as Turk surveillance. Shinra HQ's building blueprints were designed with security in mind, cameras on all outside access points like doors and windows - and listening devices on the interior. For the Turk detail monitoring their charges, all that was needed was to piggyback on the existing channels with their Security access.

Methodically, he set the timer, beginning to brewing herbal tea at the two minute mark. At three minutes, Tseng knocked on Rufus' bedroom door, still checking the audio monitors to see if the Vice President had woken up on his own - or could use the assistance to. Being the sole Heir to the world's most prominent business empire meant that Rufus Shinra's childhood was not free of kidnapping attempts. Tseng did not have clearance for those files yet. The ones Tseng had received at the detail assignment briefing last week had included the latest and very _public_ Wutai assassins' suicide attacks - giving him a fair idea what nightmares might haunt the younger man.

It was, after all, not that different from the life of the heir to a prestigious Wutai _Daimyo_ Clan, with the same expectations to live up to the family name and guard the secrets to its power.

The knock on his door startles Rufus from his reverie.

"Who is it?" The Vice President demands - because he honestly doesn't know. If this isn't a dream - he's fairly certain he died just a few minutes ago - then maybe this is the Planet's punishment for him. Maybe this is Hell and it's his father on the other side of that door, oozing with the same plague and full of hatred for his son. Steeling himself, Rufus Shinra waits for the reply.

"It's Tseng." He's only been assigned to the Vice President of Shinra for less than a week, after all. And he deliberately kept a low profile to be remembered no more than 'that Wutai Turk'. "Your current assigned Turk Detail. May I come in, sir?"

"Tseng?" Rufus was confused. Why would Tseng be here? Tseng hadn't died - wasn't dead. Unless he'd done something ridiculously Wutai and committed honor-bound suicide. It seems highly unlikely - Tseng knew Rufus well enough to know that his liege wouldn't have wanted that, and the rest of the Turks wouldn't have let him. Tseng's far too _practical_ for that. He'd have figured out the next best move for the Turks instead of taking the coward's way out. 

Replacing his torn pajama shirt, Rufus opens the door. It's definitely Tseng, looking younger - and there's nothing monstrous or demonic about him. The Vice President supposes if the theme is to be trapped to relive his younger days and the events that he now regrets, this Tseng is appropriately aged for the occasion. 

"What do you want?" Rufus narrows his eyes suspiciously, asking - because he's sure the answer will be something suitably dramatic. 

Perhaps 'I want to watch you suffer' or 'I want you to know that your sins will never wash away'. He snorts at his own thoughts. Honestly, he'd never even believed in an afterlife and now here he is. Aerith is probably laughing at him, wherever she is.

"Following your previous orders, Vice President." Seven years later, before Meteorfall, Tseng would have perfected the expressionless Spinx face. Now, it was obvious to Rufus that Tseng's eyes widened briefly in surprise at the venom in Rufus' voice, before settling into a less perfect version of the face Rufus remembered. 

His Turk was dressed for on duty, as always, but given the lateness of the hour he'd apparently relaxed enough to loosen both tie and collar, and was missing his suit jacket. 

"You look somewhat fevered. Should I also bring the flu kit and thermometer along with the sleep aid herbal tea? Now, it should be steeped as you liked it the last time. "

Which had been two nights ago. And Rufus had been difficult, exchanging his orders in a tantrum worthy of Rhapsodos' most primadonna anedotes, finding fault with each successive sleep aids until the last chamomile blend.

"My previous orders..." Rufus says, tone cautious. He has no recollection of what those orders might be - or, rather, they could be anything if this is supposed to be a scenario to torture him. Except things have seemed fairly innocuous so far. "I don't need a flu kit," he adds coolly. 

He has to remind himself that this is not his Tseng. This is some other Tseng. A remnant, a copy, an imperfect mirror of him. This Tseng is far too easy to read, emotions written all over his face. 

Rufus does, however, step out of his room, and head into the kitchen to inspect his tea. He looks at it, smells it, takes the tiniest sip as if it might be poisoned. As far as he can tell, it's just herbal tea. 

"When does the torture start?" Rufus asks to break this banal charade.

"I have no such orders that supercede your authority." Tseng visibly -visibily!- tried not to twitch. Rufus had been the one who'd left him with the 'torture' of the Vice Presidential paperwork to work through, and the reason why Tseng was still awake past midnight to a Saturday morning. With impeccable timing, he offered Rufus the small serving spoon and jar of honey, noting the grimace at the tartness from the lemon in the chamomile blend.

It was a combination he recognized as a common Eastern Continent remedy for pain from indigestion - which could've easily resulted from last night's Shinra function and its rich food.

Alright, so he'd annoyed Tseng and Tseng hadn't even broken out of their little game. Interesting. Rufus takes a dollop of honey and mixes it into the tea, sipping at it again. One more dollop of honey and then it's sweet enough to stomach. He prefers coffee or black tea, but his stomach is somewhat roiling. He hadn't even really noticed with his earlier panic. Though, maybe it's a lingering effect of the Geostigma. Could that haunt him in the afterlife? 

Calmly, Rufus looks Tseng up and down in assessment. Tie askew, jacket missing, collar undone. He hasn't seen him look like this in quite a long time. It's fascinatingly nostalgic, something half-remembered from the days when simple breathing wasn't a monumental struggle. Tseng looks good like this, even if he's imaginary. 

"Alright, then what's on the schedule for today?" Because he certainly wasn't going back to sleep. And if he's going to suddenly be marched off somewhere like Junon or Wutai or Hojo's lab, he'd rather know about it in advance.

And Tseng's eyebrow did twitch at the measuring assessment from Rufus. That was the look he'd usually observed from the Vice President - on others - and usually right before a background check order before Rufus decided to pursue his sexual interest.

"Your schedule is clear for today, Vice President." Tseng's voice betrayed no emotion, coolly detached and professional and as neat as the ponytail tie at the base of his neck. "Just as you ordered. The helicopter requisition is fueled and ready to fly to Costa del Sol at 9:00 am Midgar standard Time, as is the vacation villa. Shotgun and Knife should finish screening the locals for the beach party before 4:00pm Costa time.

"I may be too impaired to act as chauffeur and recommend Nunchuck or Reno as the helicopter pilot."

_What._

He's going on vacation. This is - something is wrong here. This can't be right. He's not leaving here for Costa del Sol until he knows what the hell is going on.

"I don't have time for vacation," Rufus replies, annoyed. He sets down his tea so he can head back into his room, shutting the door firmly behind him. Changing into his usual white suit and jacket, and - Bahamut, his hair is atrociously long. 

"I need a haircut." The instant Rufus finishes dressing, he opens the door again and snaps his gaze to Tseng. 

"The earliest upper plate Barber isn't open until 10 am, sir." Tseng put his PHS temporarily on mute to answer Rufus before resuming his phone conversation. "Yes, it's been cancelled. Close down the Villa and go back on leave. Overtime pay? Forward me the forms and I'll authorize it, but only if it's complete."

"If you don't care to wait, sir, I'll see about requisitioning the necessary supplies from the employees' gym." The helicopter was more easily cancelled on the internal flight booking app.

The look Rufus gives him for the suggestion is absolutely withering, but then it passes quickly enough and he straightens his jacket, brushes his hair irritably out of his face, and heads for the door. He needs to investigate this world. Things are just too weird.

Tseng sighed. He was so going to give himself overtime for this. Grabbing the jacket he'd left on the sofa, he quickly made himself presentable after checking his personal arsenal.

Hurrying after Rufus, the Turk made sure to be visible first before assuming guard distance within Rufus' blind spot.

Rufus sees Tseng, but at this point in his life, he's become so used to having a Turk shadow that it barely registers. Instead, it just feels like warm familiarity, something normal that he can grasp on to. 

He starts making his way down through the floors via keycard and elevator, stopping randomly. Rufus traverses through the floors with a critical eye, looking for something our of place. He pokes his nose through the executive floors, through the administrative offices of various departments, down through the cafeteria and recreation, all the way down to the training floor for SOLDIER. 

============================

**[ μ ] - εγλ 1998 June 6th 01:43 AM - Shinra HQ, 49th SOLDIER Floor**

Here, he pauses in the doorway of a room when he hears noise from inside. There's a moment where Rufus' face flashes through apprehension, then aggression, finally settling on confusion. Sephiroth is in there, with two other men that Rufus recognizes. They're practicing, playing some sort of ridiculous aim game with some sort of dark-colored apple perched on Sephiroth's head. 

The image is so incongruous with what Rufus remembers of Sephiroth, of the destruction he caused and the Remnants he left, that his brain can't fully process what he's seeing.

"... is that Sephiroth?"

"Yes."

"Is he standing still with a Dumbapple on his head?!"

"Yes."

"What are they- WHUT." 

Rufus watched incredulously as the red-headed SOLDIER flung his sword and neatly skewered the apple over Sephiroth's head. The silver haired man didn't even flinch - only took the sword with the fruit to set it down, and took a second from the dark-haired and bulkier First Class SOLDIER. 

"Yes, it's a running competition between them. Did you wish to place odds on the current betting pool, sir? 10-1 on Hewley, 3-1 on Rhapsodos, and 5-4 on Sephiroth." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing this is SLOW, and much slower setup than current arc.
> 
> This is what I meant by "If I didn't write the middle arc I'll never write the beginning." 
> 
> I probably will take longer to get back to this one. OTL
> 
> On the three Firsts and their antics:  
Dumbapple William Tell practice. With signature weapons.  
This is Canon, according to Crisis Core.

**Author's Note:**

> Rufus and the older Tseng were never lovers. 
> 
> They met too early, and neither took that step forward.
> 
> Missed opportunities, insufficient trust, they shaped each other's lives as the world they knew fell apart.
> 
> It took more than one near death experience for Rufus to _change_ and begin to appreciate loyalty, instead of seeing it merely as a tool.
> 
> Ancient Temple, Diamond WEAPON, Meteorfall, Geostigma and the Remnants.
> 
> There was no time left, nothing Rufus could offer, but his Turks _stayed_ .
> 
> And then, it was too late - save to leave _everything_ to his Turks. 
> 
> There should be another standalone, told from the POV of the son of Rufus Shinra, the 18 year old President of Neo Shinra - of the epilogue in that other Time in which 29 year old Rufus Shinra did not survive Geostigma - and 51 year old Tseng dies as the last Living Symbol of Old Shinra, on the Canonization Ceremony of St. Aerith the Virtuous and St. Rufus the Atoner.
> 
> For the working Arc & chapters titles on this one - I kept beating down Rufus' sarcasm with Catholic hymn lyrics remembered from childhood.


End file.
